


Kind Of Guy Who Mates For Life

by CookieDoughMe



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Haven (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dub-con elements, Dubious Consent, Duke and Spike as exes (kind of), M/M, No Lube, Pining for people who aren't there, Rape/Non-con Elements, Spike takes things to a place Duke isn't sure he wants to go, Spuffy overtones, Threegulls overtones, duke's pov, non-con elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:55:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25067266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieDoughMe/pseuds/CookieDoughMe
Summary: What do Duke and Spike have in common? (Besides a history of operating outside the law.) A determined blonde woman with a destiny she’d rather avoid, who is something of a focus in their lives and who relies on them but just, not quite in the way they would like.This is non specific as to timeline, but in terms of character development, for Duke think season 2 or 3 (i.e. before Jennifer) and for Spike probably season 3 or 4 (i.e. some time after Drusilla and before season 6).Non-con elements and very dubious consent from chapter 4. Questions welcome if you want more detail before reading.
Relationships: Duke Crocker/Spike (BtVS)
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from [Placebo's ‘Nancy Boy’](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gdIIbHwrS1c): "Kind of guy who mates for life, Gotta help him find a wife. We're a couple, When our bodies double." Mostly just because I had it in my head, but I do also think that both of them, given half a chance, are indeed the kind of guy to mate for life.

It had been the kind of day where Duke had to remind himself why he liked being the owner of the Grey Gull. Not because anything terrible had happened (the day had in fact been mercifully quiet in terms of actual disasters) but just because of the dull and boring everyday irritations that came with running a business; the routine monotony of it all. He told himself firmly that there were benefits to routine monotony (because there were, there absolutely were) and started on his last chore of the day. Once the floor was swept, he would go home to a nice comfortable and, at least theoretically, perfectly safe bed. And if it was a shame that it would be empty and he’d just have to wake up and do the same stuff all over again tomorrow well, he’d slept in worse places and he’d had worse days. He talked himself into a better mood as he stacked chairs on tables ready to sweep underneath them and was humming relatively happily to himself by the time he got to the last table in the corner.

As he put the last chair down on its table, his deliberately-cheerful humming was interrupted by an unexpected voice from the other side of the room. “Bloody hell it’s really him. The Duke hiding out in a little fishing village. What is the world coming to?” 

He finished positioning the chair as his brain kicked into overdrive; that had sounded like Spike. Spike who he had last seen a long time before he’d had any plans to return to Haven and certainly before he’d had any inkling he might one day own a restaurant here. It couldn’t actually  _ be  _ Spike, could it? Here? But then, there was no one else could it be, not with that voice. Plus Spike was the only person who had ever called him “The Duke”; a joke that had never been funny but that had gone through irritating and on into an accepted familiarity that at times had veered dangerously close to fond.

He hid his surprise as he turned round, and saw Spike leaning in the open door that should have been closed at this time of night. He was just glad he hadn’t got as far as locking it, feeling sure that Spike would have simply smashed through it if it hadn’t opened first time.

"Spike," he offered, a brief and wary greeting.

"Is that any way to greet an old friend?" Spike asked, sounding disappointed but not particularly surprised. He stepped inside and took a look round the bar as he started to walk towards Duke in the far corner.

This presented Duke with the uncomfortably familiar feeling of being backed into a corner, and put his metaphorical hackles up. He took a step closer to the bar, partly just to move further into the centre of the room, but he was also thinking through the location of his nearest stashed gun, as well as the distance to the kitchen with it’s selection of knives and other possible make-shift weapons, and the location of his phone with it’s speed dial to Audrey, Nathan, Dwight and the police station (in that order). None of these things was exactly within easy reach, but he did know exactly how long it would take to get to any of them, and at least it was late enough that the place was free of both customers and staff; he didn’t need to worry about anyone’s safety besides his own. He took another step towards the bar (and the nearest available gun), but he didn’t want to push it. Trying to get to a particular location was the kind of thing that would give him away as having something worth getting to. "It might be a good way to greet an old business associate," he pointed out. 

Spike laughed, "We were more than that." Something about the way he said it made Duke relax a little. He stepped right up to the bar and saw that Spike didn’t care where he was heading or why. Spike wasn't really one to hold a grudge afterall, and they hadn't actually parted on  _ that  _ bad an argument.

"Why are you here?" Duke asked after a moment.

"Just passing through. Thought I'd see if the rumours about you settling down were true." Spike paused a few feet away from him and looked around him, taking in the details of the bar. "This is a nice front," he said.

"It's not a  _ front _ ," Duke replied firmly. 

"Gone straight have you?" Spike asked, amused by the concept. Not really wanting to get into a detailed answer to that question, Duke stalled for time. He held Spike's gaze for a moment, then let his eyes drop slowly down to lips and on to neck, shoulders, chest, stomach and hips. The man looked every inch as good as he had done ten years ago and Duke lingered over the appealing view. When he finally dragged his gaze back up to eye level, Spike was grinning at him. "Not entirely straight then," Spike commented, the words careful and clear, each letter enunciated in that accent he still had. He made a show of his grin, pushing his tongue against his teeth, and shifting his weight over his hips as he took a step closer.

_ You are such a showoff, _ thought Duke. He didn't necessarily mean it as an insult.


	2. Chapter 2

"Why are you here?" Duke asked again.

"Can't a bloke just come and say hello?"

"Not usually," Duke pointed out, not without good reason, but he was relaxing as they talked. If Spike meant him harm he wouldn't have opened like this. Duke knew him that well at least. Spike didn't tend to go for subtlety or long cons, particularly not when he was angry. And perhaps there was just something about talking to him that was relaxing in itself; his voice and that accent for one. 

Duke didn't think of himself as someone particularly swayed by accents. He'd seen enough of the world - Britain included - that they weren't so much of a novelty any more. But even though he'd spent some time travelling around England, moving through a sea of different accents that all sounded something like Spike's, there was still something about the way he spoke that made Duke's blood pump just a little quicker. Perhaps it wasn't the accent at all, perhaps it was just his voice. Perhaps it was those amused brown eyes and that ridiculous overly-blonde hair, a measure of how gorgeous the man was that he managed to pull that off.

"How about I order a whiskey then? This is a bar, right?"

"A closed bar, but fine," Duke replied, giving in. He obviously wasn't going to get a clear answer for a while, so they may as well share a drink in the meantime. If he didn't charge him for it, he wasn't even breaking any laws (and the chance of Spike handing over any cash seemed small in any case). He stepped around behind the bar and picked a bottle off the bottom shelf, apparently at random but in fact deliberately the cheapest he had, confident that Spike would neither notice nor care about the brand. He poured them each a glass and slid one across the bar, and for all that he was fairly sure now that Spike meant him no harm, he was glad of the slight barrier the bar put between them. "If you are thinking of doing anything in Haven besides literally passing through, I should warn you the local cops are surprisingly efficient for a small town, and also much more aware of paranormal possibilities than you might think."

"Is that so?" replied Spike, noncommittally.

"One of them lives upstairs," Duke added.

"Oh you have gone straight!"

"Not entirely," Duke replied, meaning it in various different ways; there wasn't as much between him and Audrey as Spike apparently thought, there were his lingering feelings for Nathan, and there was also the fact that not all of the stock behind the bar could really be said to be legal in the strictest sense of the word.

"So what do you do for fun around here?" asked Spike after a moment.

Duke considered his reply. He was aware even as he said it that it was risky, but he was drawn by the appeal of something outside of the usual routine. "Well, there's the bar …" he began, gesturing with his glass.

"Yeah I noticed that much."

"The beach…" Duke carried on as though Spike hadn't spoken, but he left a pause which Spike filled with a withering look that Duke also chose to ignore. "Or the bedroom," Duke finished lightly. Too lightly for it to not mean anything, even as he still wasn't sure whether he really wanted it to mean anything at all.

"Uh huh. And which of those takes up most of your time?" Spike asked.

"Depends on who's around," Duke replied carefully, not looking Spike in the eye so much as looking at him everywhere else.

"Well," pointed out Spike with exaggerated patience, "I'm here, we're already drinking and I'm not much for sunbathing. So that leaves one other option."

Duke was silent for a long time, sipping his whiskey, reading Spike’s body language, thinking over his options. For all that it might be a bad idea, it was a good long while since he’d shared a bed (or anything else) with anyone, and the option was tempting. Far more tempting than that empty bed waiting for him at home.

"Are you interested? One time offer," Spike added. 

"Where are you staying?"

"Hadn't exactly figured that out yet."

"Bit risky isn't it?" asked Duke, surprised.

Spike shrugged. "I'll find something. It's hours ‘til sunrise yet."

"There's…" Duke began reluctantly, considering worst-case scenarios. "If you need it there's a half-built hotel, abandoned to the north of town. Should be a safe enough spot to wait out the daylight."

"Is that your way of telling me to piss off?"

"It's my way of telling you I'm not inviting you into my home. And if you hurt anyone in this town," Duke added, "I'll kill you myself."

Spike shrugged again, unconcerned. "I only eat people who deserve it, you know that."

"Yeah," Duke grimaced as he looked away.

After a moment, Spike spoke again, quietly this time as though confessing a deep and shameful secret. "I haven't killed anyone for a very long time.”

"Oh? Gone straight have you?" Duke echoed his words back to him, not expecting a straight answer. Spike seemed to be considering one though, and took out a cigarette to smoke while he thought about it. "Ah, no smoking in here," Duke told him, and led the way outside.


	3. Chapter 3

To his surprise, Spike followed him outside without comment. Duke stepped out onto the veranda and then the decking, walking along it away from the building. He turned and glanced up at the apartment, then looked out to sea where the moonlight bounced off the waves in the warm summer air.

"Worried about your pet cop?" Spike asked, looking upstairs curiously as he fished a lighter out of a coat pocket. For all that he liked to claim he didn't care what people did, he could be annoyingly perceptive sometimes.

"She can look after herself," Duke replied, making a mental note to warn Audrey not to invite any peroxide-blonde British men into the apartment.

"That wasn't what I meant."

Far too perceptive.

Spike lit his cigarette and then took another careful look over the building. "She's not there, is she?" he asked.

"She's at Nathan's," Duke replied, almost without thinking. When did he ever have the chance to talk to anyone about them?

Spike’s laugh was short but not particularly harsh. "And which one are you jealous of?" he asked, puffing smoke into the sea air.

Duke frowned and turned away, unable to hide his surprise in time.

"Oh, both of them!"

Far too fucking perceptive.

“Who’s this Nathan fella?”

“Local detective,” offered Duke. That was all the information Spike was getting.

“ _ Two  _ cops!” exclaimed Spike in near disbelief. “The Duke pining over not one but two police? I never thought I’d see the day.”

“I am not  _ pining _ ,” objected Duke, resenting the word.

"Hey, it happens to the best of us,” Spike offered as though that were an apology. Duke looked at him doubtfully. Spike shrugged as though coming to a decision to elaborate, “You're friends, right? Of a sort? You're friends but you'd like to be more. You've changed (and you have changed mate, if you were wondering) and they should be able to see that but I bet they don't, not really. Not how much. They rely on you though, and you even rely on them sometimes, but for all that you're different now, for all that you have it in you to be the person they want you to be, they won't admit to it, they can't see past the fangs and the face to someone who could …"

Far, far too percepti- … wait. “What? Who are we talking about?" Duke asked.

Spike sighed, took a pensive drag on his cigarette. "Feisty blonde woman, about yey high," he said, holding his hand up to around Audrey's height.

Duke stepped up to grab his shirt. "You leave Audrey alone or I'll find a nice sunny spot to tie you up and forget to come back."

"Who's Audrey?"

The look of confusion on Spike's face was so genuine that Duke let go and stepped back. Suddenly it clicked into place; Spike had also fallen for a blonde woman who wasn't interested in him, at least not the way he wanted her to be. Well wasn't that just fantastic. "Who are you talking about?" he asked again.

"Name's Buffy."

"And you're friends, of a sort?" Duke asked. 

"When she needs something." 

Duke huffed out a laugh, short and unintentionally bitter.

Spike took it as a sign of recognition. "You too huh?"

"And? What of it?" replied Duke, frustrated. “You come here to swap tips on how to not-fall for someone?”

“No, but we could ... distract each other, for one night at least.” Spike’s voice was smooth and persuasive. He’d always been able to turn on the charm when he wanted to, rare though that was.

Duke looked at him. “I'm still not inviting you in.”

“The beach then,” Spike suggested, pointing his cigarette vaguely in the direction of the ocean.

Duke hesitated. 

“Busy at night is it?” Spike asked, falling back on his favoured tactic of sarcasm.

Duke looked along the coast. There was a spot not too far from here; soft sand hidden from the road and not too close to the water. In the day there would be tourists, but now, in the middle of the night, it would be deserted. He considered it. It was tempting. 

It was also ridiculous. Take a vampire to a quiet spot on the beach, like teenagers looking for somewhere to make out? He didn't need that kind of surreal in his life, things were strange enough already in this town. He shook his head to himself and stepped back around to the back of the building, wanting some space away from this unexpected personal drama.

He walked to the end of the veranda and turned around, surprised to come face to face with Spike who he’d thought was still out on the deck. He'd forgotten how quietly he could move.

Spike stared at him for a moment in a silent challenge and when Duke didn't speak, Spike nodded, turned and walked away. "I'll be off then. Thanks for the drink."

For a moment Duke watched him go. He felt certain that once Spike left he would never see him again. The prospect of watching him walk away and then going to bed alone was unappealing, and he thought through his options again. This spot out the back of the Gull, between the building and the sea, was pretty public in the day but no one was around now. It was after midnight, and the only light came from the full moon to one side and the bar to the other, both cut off by the walls and balcony of the Gull. The chances of them being seen here in the shadows were minimal. "Wait," said Duke, just as Spike was about to disappear round the corner of the building. 

Spike stopped and looked back over his shoulder then gradually turned back round to face him.


	4. Chapter 4

"You can't stay in this town," Duke said firmly.

"You're not that irresistible love," threw back Spike. He took a final drag on his cigarette and stepped forward to stub it out in a discarded wine glass that Duke had missed in his clear up earlier. "I'm just passing through."

"Guess we understand each other then."

"Yeah we understand each other," Spike assured him, his tone of voice making it clear he meant it in a whole other sense. He backed that up by taking another step closer and making a show of looking Duke up and down, open in his interest. There was something almost predatory about that look; if it had been any more so it would have been alarming, frightening even. But as it was, it sparked a flash of arousal in Duke because it felt like a very long time indeed since anyone had looked at him with even half the interest on show on Spike's face in that moment. Before he could talk himself into a more sensible decision, Duke closed the space between them in a couple of long strides and took Spike's face in a kiss.

If Spike was surprised he didn’t show it, he just kissed back hard, hands curling round Duke’s biceps. Kissing Spike was like nothing else. Even before Duke had known what he was, there had been something strange about the coolness of his skin, the lack of breathlessness, the intensity with which Spike reached for him. Though maybe that last one was just Spike, because whatever he was doing, he went all in. He wasn’t the kind of person to do things by halves. That had served Duke well in some of their business dealings and disasterously in others, but now there was just something pleasingly familiar about it. Spike was a few inches shorter than he was and he wasn't a big guy, but Duke knew from painful experience that his punches held some serious weight. He felt that strength now in the force of Spike's grip, and in the taughtness of the muscles beneath his own wandering hands. 

After a long moment, Spike pulled back to slip out of his coat, letting it fall to the deck behind him. Then there was a flash of his grin as he came at Duke for another kiss and pushed him backwards and to the side. Duke allowed himself to be manhandled around for a moment as his back hit the wall and Spike pulled at the buttons on Duke’s shirt and shorts. Spike was soon shifting down his body, mumbling against the skin low on Duke's stomach, "Anyone ever tell you, you taste amazing." As he sank lower still, Duke spurred himself back into action to pull Spike upwards. "What's the matter? Don't trust my teeth then?"

"You know I don't," replied Duke, and spun them both around to push Spike's back against the wall of the building instead.

"You're missing out, you know. You think you've had practice? I've got a hundred years of practice."

"Yeah, yeah," Duke replied as though he'd heard it all before (which he had), but it turned into a gasp as Spike reached one hand around his ass, the other down between his legs, squeezing both hard enough through the fabric of his shorts to be just the right side of painful. 

Duke responded by pushing Spike back harder against the wood of the Gull, realising distantly that he might never be able to walk past this spot again without thinking of this moment. He chased the thought away by kissing the cocky grin from Spike's face. They kissed each other hard for a while, battling for space (a battle for air that Duke would always have to lose, considering Spike didn't technically need to breathe). And then suddenly, Spike pushed Duke's shorts down his legs, exposing his ass to the night air. It wasn’t the first time but still, he had to admit there was a thrill to it, to doing this outside. He didn't stop to think about that though because Spike's strong hands were squeezing him again, skin against skin this time, one set of fingers pressing against the curve of his ass, the other curving round the erection that gave him away as far more excited about this whole situation than he really wanted to admit to Spike.

But Spike wasn't far behind him in that, the cockiness falling from his face as he succumbed to the pleasure of Duke's lips and hands roaming all over him, pushing his shirt up his ribs and his open jeans further down low on his hips. So Duke was surprised when Spike spoke. "Which one of them are you thinking about?" he asked as though it were a polite discussion about the weather.

"None of your business," Duke bit out a reply, pulling Spike to him in the hope of kissing away any further attempts at uncalled-for conversation.

Spike held himself just out of reach though. "You want them, admit it. You wish both of them were here, fucking you together. You think about it. Admit it."

"Why?" asked Duke, annoyed and bemused.

"Because I want to know that I'm not the only one fucked up enough to fall for someone who's never going to lower herself enough to sleep with me. Admit it or I'll make you."

"No."

"I'll make you," Spike threatened again, and spun Duke around in front of him. With strength as well as the element of surprise on Spike's side, Duke only just managed to brace himself against the wall in time to stop his cock making painful contact with the rough wooden surface.

"No!" Duke protested again, pushing back with his arms though he knew he didn't have the strength to fight him off; if Spike really wanted to force him he would, and there wouldn't be much he could do about it. "Wait, stop." Suddenly the thought of his own bed, quiet and empty, seemed much more appealing afterall.

Spike gripped Duke's hips and pushed himself tight to Duke's ass, cock pressing up against him with only the thin fabric of underwear between them. "You know how good I can make you feel."

"No," Duke said again. (In fact he did know, but that wasn't the point.) "Stop, I …-"

"Pretend I'm him," Spike said, intense and urgent, somewhere just behind Duke's ear. Duke stopped struggling, half out of surprise, half out of … something else. "Pretend it's Nathan pressed up against you, Audrey waiting to fuck you once he's done."

Duke closed his eyes against the ridiculous situation. He hadn’t had any contact with Spike in years and they had never been what you’d really call close. They had never  _ talked _ , not about themselves. And now he’d been here for less than an hour and already he knew the things Duke thought about when he was in bed alone. And for some strange twisted reason was insisting on Duke admitting to them out loud.

He felt Spike shift behind him, pulling the last of his clothing out of the way. Then he gripped Duke’s hips again, and Duke realised he was waiting for an answer. Whether that meant Spike would stop if he told him no one more time, Duke wasn't sure. Maybe he wanted Duke to change his mind, maybe he wanted him not to, maybe he just wanted to know whether he had. If Duke protested again, would Spike would stop and leave, or would he would fuck him anyway? The only thing Duke was sure of was that he didn’t stand a chance against Spike’s supernatural strength. 

But whatever Spike was thinking it wasn't dampening his arousal; his cock was pressed tight up against Duke's ass now, moments from pushing inside him. 

_ Do I really want him to leave? _ Duke asked himself. "Say it again," he said.

Spike seemed happy to oblige, his voice turning more persuasive as he painted a picture for Duke. "It's your detective Nathan pressed up behind you and his eager cock about to fuck into you, hard enough to hit that point of pleasure just the way he knows you like. Audrey’s waiting her turn, or maybe she’s joining in just to see how quickly they can undo you completely," Spike added, reaching a hand down to stroke Duke's cock; once, twice. He was good at that, more so even than Duke had remembered, and he relaxed into the pleasure despite himself. "Still want me to stop?" Spike asked, pulsing his hips forward so that Duke knew exactly what he meant.

Duke straightened and tensed his arms to put some more distance between his cock and that splintery wooden wall in front of him. "No," he said, surprising himself slightly with the realisation it was even true. He looked at the texture of the grey wooden boards and remembered the last time Nathan had been here. It had been broad daylight, there’d been people everywhere and the two of them had been arguing about something or another: but it wasn’t difficult to imagine them alone here in the moonlight, pressed up against each other like this instead. He’d thought about it often enough afterall. 

And then Spike was pushing forward, slowly, and for a moment he was careful, almost gentle as he pushed inside until hips pressed against ass. He paused to tell Duke, "It’s Nathan's cock pressing inside of you.”

"Shut up," Duke told him irritably. _I don’t need your help to imagine Nathan Wuornos,_ he thought, _and you sound absolutely nothing like him,_ _on so very, very many levels._

For once Spike did what he was told, staying silent as he took his hand from Duke's cock to his hips, and then a moment later he was thrusting into him, hard. Hard and fast enough that Duke tensed against the movement, even as he closed his eyes on the pleasure and bit his lip to keep from letting out a moan. 

Spike leant forward and bit his shoulder blade, just hard enough to draw a drop or two of blood, and licked it from his skin.  _ No, _ thought Duke,  _ I never agreed to that _ . But he didn't say it, the pleasure was too much as Spike drew his mouth away and thrust into him hard and long, again and again. 

Duke didn’t know who Spike was thinking of and he didn’t care, lost in his own fantasy of Nathan and the feel of the cock inside him that soon brought him close to orgasm. Spike got there first though, and when he pulled out Duke was left shaky and wanting. Spike spun him round again and pressed him to the wall, the wood rough against his naked ass, and before Duke knew what was happening Spike was on his knees taking his cock into his mouth. Duke managed the beginnings of a ‘ _ No’ _ as he realised what he was doing, but Spike had been right about the benefits of experience, and the pleasure flowed through Duke before he could gather his wits together to push him off. And then another bob of Spike's head, another flex of his tongue and Duke's orgasm hit suddenly enough that he did cry out then, unable to control it, glad that he was sure that Audrey wasn't home.

Spike pulled off and zipped himself back up as Duke sank to the floor against the wall. Spike grinned down at him, looking smug and more pleased with himself than Duke had ever seen him.

Duke took a moment or two to get his breath back enough to be able to make it through a whole sentence in one go. "What would your Buffy say if she was here to see you push someone into something they'd said no to?" Duke asked, guessing (apparently correctly) that this was the one thing he could say that would make Spike both pissed and leave.

Spike snarled at him, angry and disappointed at one of them, though whether at the hypothetical Buffy, at Duke, or at himself, wasn't clear. Perhaps all three; Duke didn’t ask. Spike picked up his coat from the floor, took one last look at him and turned to leave.

"That was a one time deal, Crocker," he said as he rounded the corner of the building. "You won't see me again."

_ Thank fuck for that, _ thought Duke. He pushed himself upright on shaking legs to pull his clothes back on, and grimaced at the realisation that he was never going to be able to walk past this section of deck again without remembering Spike being here, how good the things he hadn't wanted him to do had felt, and how very, very much he'd wished it had been Nathan doing them instead.


End file.
